An Exchange of Thank Yous
by AlwaystheCatLady
Summary: Harry Potter receives an unexpected surprise during Auror Training.


An Exchange of Thank Yous

Written for QLFC, Round One

Chudley Cannons, Chaser #3

Mandatory Prompt: Write a theme you've never written before.

Optional Prompts: (quote) Adventure is not outside man; it is within. - George Eliot, (setting) Department of Mysteries, (word) corporation

Wordcount: 1,435

Many aspects about Auror training sucked, but Harry Potter's latest assignment managed to top all of them. To think, there was a point in time when Harry thought that waking up for 5 AM workouts was the worst training they could throw at him. But being forced to follow an Unspeakable around their job in the Department of Mysteries was akin to torture.

For some reason, the Ministry of Magic decided it was important for its Aurors to understand how other departments worked so if they were called to them later there would be less confusion or some such rot. Harry hadn't listened all that much. They didn't have the time to have all of the trainees go individually to each department to learn about them, so each would get assigned to one and share a presentation to the other trainees. Harry thought, and Ron quite agreed with him, that it was all a load of bull. Especially since Harry got the Department of Mysteries and Ron got the Apparition Test Center subdivision of the Department of Magical Transportation, the most boring of the departments if Ron was to be believed.

After Sirius had died going through the Veil of Death, Harry had never wanted to go back to deal with the mysterious corporation again. Fate had never been Harry's friend though. A part of him wished he had guessed this might have happened and accepted the Ministry's offer of skipping training and going straight into being an Auror. Though when Harry had mentioned this thought to Hermione and Ginny they had both claimed he was being overdramatic.

Harry walked down the long corridor to the Department, his footsteps echoing loudly against the cobblestones. His right hand in his robe pocket wrapped tight around his wand while his left was crinkling the piece of paper he was supposed to give to an Alden Eliot who was supposed to be his mentor for the next couple of weeks. Harry pictured an old, balding man with a cagey smile and cryptic mannerisms that told nothing but riddles meant to confuse him.

The door that had hunted his dreams for well over a year was right in front of him. Harry took a deep breath and opened the door. In the middle of the circular room of doors, a tall woman that looked to be in her mid-thirties stood wearing a nondescript black robe. She was writing something on a clipboard.

Maybe she could help him figure out where to go. Harry cleared his throat. "Um, I'm supposed to meet someone named Alden Eliot. Do you know where I might find him?"

The woman looked up. Harry was struck by her sun kissed skin and freckles. He had pictured everyone here with sickly looking pale skin that showed they hadn't seen the sun in months.

"I am Alden Eliot," she said with a raised eyebrow.

Harry's cheeks colored.

"Oh. Er- sorry, I just-"

"Assumed your mentor would be male," she finished for him.

"Ye- I mean no. Er- Your name -"

Eliot smiled, looking more amused than anything. "Do you know of the muggle author, George Eliot?"

"Um, no. Sorry," Harry said. Hermione probably did though.

"Rather popular in the 1800s. George Eliot was actually a pen name for Mary Ann Evans. She chose to have people assume her work was by a man so they would take her more seriously." Eliot gestured Harry to follow her and she continued talking as she went through one of the doors. "Every person who signs on to the Department of Mysteries takes on a false name, an image to protect themselves and their work. I chose my name for similar reasons to Evans's."

Harry was rather at a lost for words and still embarrassed even though his mistake was one Eliot figured everyone to make. He looked around. He hadn't been in this particular room before. It looked similar to a regular office. People were milling around at different tables, some writing on parchment, some casting spells at little objects, some simply chatting to their coworkers. It was strange though, even as they passed by, Harry couldn't catch a word from any of them.

"Around our work tables we have privacy spells. We find it helps people focus and it is a safety feature against any spies," Eliot said.

"Are we going to yours?" Harry asked.

"Briefly," she said.

They fell into silence as they walked to the very back of the room. Arriving at a particularly messy desk, Eliot conjured an armchair out of thin air before sitting in her own.

"I need the paper they gave you," Eliot said.

Harry handed it over and sat quietly as she scanned it. Eliot nodded and pulled out a little stamp. When she hit the paper, it disappeared in a puff of smoke. She put away the stamp and shuffled through her papers for a few minutes before she found the one she was looking for.

"Aha! Here we go." She stood up. "Off we go now."

"Er-" Harry obediently followed. "Where exactly are we going? What do you work with?"

"I work in the Death Chamber," Eliot said.

"No," Harry croaked out, stopping in his tracks.

Eliot turned around with an irritatingly understanding look on her face. The large room was feeling much too small now. Every breath felt like a struggle. Harry shook his head, stepping back toward Eliot's desk. Being in the Department of Mysteries was bad enough, but to go into the actual Death Chamber? To see the Veil of Death once again? Harry couldn't do it. He _refused_ to do it.

A pink spell hit Harry in his stomach. A familiar artificial calm started flowing through Harry's body. He struggled against it, knowing it was a calming spell to prevent panic attacks. Hermione had used it a lot on him, and he hated it every time. He didn't need to be calmed. He didn't agree to it at all. But the spell did its work anyway, and Harry felt connected to the room once again.

"I'm sorry. I should have prepared you better for that," Eliot said. "Look, Potter, I asked for you to be assigned here for a reason."

"What do you mean you asked for me?" Harry asked. "It was supposed to be randomly assigned."

"I pulled a few strings. I wanted to show you something. Something the department has worked on for quite a while."

"Show me what?" he asked, reluctantly moving again. It didn't appear he was going to get out of this. "Why me?"

"Why you indeed." Eliot clucked her tongue. "I'm sure you asked yourself that a lot throughout the years."

"A bit, yeah."

They were back into the circular chamber. It didn't spin at all, Harry noticed as the door closed behind him. Eliot strode across the room and entered the dark room Harry knew all too well. Harry wondered how they had gotten directly into the Veil room when last time they had weaved through many rooms to get to it.

This time the people in the room stopped what they were doing when they entered. The intensity of their stares made Harry uncomfortable, though Eliot showed no sign that she realized what was going on.

"This, Potter, is a project that has many long reaching consequences that we still aren't sure of. Yet, with our first round of testing, we thought of you," she said, walking right up to the Veil of Death. "We wanted to thank you for ridding the world of such evil and bringing peace to us."

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"We know. Many won't thank you, but we _wanted_ to." Eliot nodded to a group that was standing around the Veil.

They raised their wands in unison, and black spells shot out of their wands to hit the archway.

The Veil fluttered and shimmered and then, Sirius Black fell forward. Eliot waved her wand, and a cushioned stretcher appeared and caught him before he hit the floor.

"Sirius?" Harry rushed forward. He shook his godfather's shoulder, but the man didn't move. Yet, Harry could see that he was clearly breathing.

"Adventure is not outside man; it is within," Eliot said. "Black has been stuck within his own mind for these past years. We have now got his body back, and we are confident that we know how to get his mind for you too. Are you still hesitant of our thank you gift?"

Harry shook his head, dazed and crying silently. "I don't. I can't. Thank _you._ "

"No. Thank _you_ , Potter."


End file.
